


The Gladiator (Pharmercy)

by The Loneliest Bird (ShintheCat)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha Fareeha "Pharah" Amari, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Gladiators, Ancient Rome, Blood and Violence, Breeding, Dubious Consent, F/F, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, Masturbation, Omega Angela "Mercy" Ziegler, Omega Verse, Pregnancy, Slavery, Sleep Sex, my version of ancient Rome, not historical accurate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:34:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23297866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShintheCat/pseuds/The%20Loneliest%20Bird
Summary: Losing a battle, an Egyptian warrior was sold to slavery. There, she was sent to the infamous Colosseum to fight for entertainment as a gladiator. She lived only for a promise, but she didn't know her destiny lied beyond her vengeance as she met the cunning and beautiful Princess Angela Zeigler - last hope of her line.Inspired closely by the movie The Gladiator (2000) but it will be Omegaverse.
Relationships: Fareeha "Pharah" Amari/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Comments: 42
Kudos: 268





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhh, my horny brain forced me to write this, so there you go. There will be gratuitous smut in later chapters.

It was purgatory - pure suffering - in which she and these miserable souls would spend for the rest of their lives. Where they were confined in was dark and filthy. Sweat stung her eyes. The putrid smell of human odor and blood made her stomach squelch. Someone in the back retched; another was sobbing softly, begging for mercy from an unknown deity. Sweaty bodies on her sides, rubbing her on the shoulders; their breath burned her ears and churned her throat. The chains on her wrists and ankles felt heavier than ever. Her clothes, a tattered tunic, clung uncomfortably to her back. And blood - always blood - was everywhere: on the floor, in puddles; on the walls, in stains; on her clothes, her hands, on her entire body. And no matter how hard she scrubbed, it was always there. She could smell it and taste it, and everytime she closed her eyes, she saw red. 

The metal door lazily rolled up, and the light outside almost blinded Fareeha. A burly man came standing in the doorway; his shadow cast on the wooden floor, like a giant standing on a burnt grass field. As her eyes adjusted to the light, Fareeha noticed it was a different man this time. He had the same set of clothing, but he was taller and uglier. Not that she cared about their appearances; they all looked the same to her: dumb, filthy, and arrogant. No, Fareeha did not care one bit. She was just curious as to what happened to the old guy. 

“Get your sorry asses out of that cage and get ready! We got a big game today!” said the man. He grabbed the big chain that linked the slaves together and yanked it forward, forcing the people in the carriage to move.

Fareeha stood and followed the other slaves out of the carriage. She had arrived, at last, to the infamous Colosseum, where slaves came to die an honorable death - said the slavers. The walls of the Colosseum, built to house hundreds of warriors and animals, stood tall and still, unflinching against the screams and cries from both actors and audience, untarnished by the blood and death from the brutality of killing and torturing for sport. It was a magnificent sight, a masterpiece. It was also a fortress, a prison for the poor and the unfortunate. 

“Hurry up, you bunch of filthy pigs!” the man yelled, kicking someone at the back of the line. 

He was right though, Fareeha thought. They were treated like cattle. A slave had no meaning in this world. They were stripped of their names, rights, and lives. They were merely a tool, an object, used for laboring, or worse: entertainment. 

Fareeha’s thoughts were interrupted as she and the other slaves were pushed through a metal door at the foot of the wall. There, they were instructed by guards to walk through a corridor that would lead to the armory, where they could pick their weapons and armor by their own choices. 

“Ready to kill, Egyptian?” said a man next to her. He was huge and muscular, smelling of sweat and alpha musk. He was the very first she fought in the ring when they dropped her at the slavers’ round-ups. And according to him, she was the first to survive his punches, and that was a compliment. They were no friends, she didn’t like him, and he didn’t like her either, but Fareeha respected his style of fighting. It was fair and honorable. To him, fighting was like performing, and gladiators weren’t merely puppets. To him, they were artists.

“I’m always ready,” said Fareeha, putting on her armor. Her choice was light armor with leather padded on the inside. She always preferred agility over full protection. It was risky for she might get seriously injured if she wasn’t careful, but to compensate for that she could finish off her combatants before they could even strike. After all, her special skill was speed. 

“Ha! That’s the spirit! Probably the only thing I like about you,” he laughed as he put on his helmet. Swinging his mace over his shoulder, he said, “See you in hell, Egyptian.”

Fareeha didn’t say anything. She wasn’t going to die today, or tomorrow, or whenever. She had a goal to reach - a promise to keep, and she would kill as many men and women as possible to get where she wanted. Until that day came, she would not die. She picked up a sword, long enough for her liking, and a bronze round shield. Of all the great things people say about the Colosseum, Fareeha only acknowledged one: better armor and weapons. 

After the armory, they were made to sit and wait behind a metal gate, looking out to the arena. Fareeha could see a glimpse or two of the sanded arena and could hear the sound of the audience, calling for blood. A young beta, no older than sixteen, clutching a talisman in his shaking palms; his lips quivering as he chanted a prayer. In a corner was another man, an alpha, who was holding his head in his hands, mumbling ‘I don’t want to die’ to himself. Looking at these people, Fareeha realized that not everyone who made it to the Colosseum was the greatest warrior. She almost felt sorry for those two before chastising herself. She got a job to do, and that was to survive at any cost. She needed to get rid of as many warriors as possible, and by her hands or not it didn’t matter. The more they died, the less competition she would have. 

The gate finally opened. Fareeha stood and put on her helmet. And as she put her first step on the sand of the arena, the audience roared in excitement. Fareeha immediately looked around. If she wanted to survive the fight, she first had to learn the arena. There were other entrances that led to the arena, and they were guarded by soldiers. Hugging the outer rim of the Colosseum were archers; they stood with bows and arrows in their arms, ready to shoot at anyone who was stupid enough to try rebelling or escaping. The inner rim of the arena was covered in ivory spikes, hindering any escape attempts. 

Fareeha’s eyes stopped at the royal section, where the emperor and his family, along with the senators, would sit. There was no sight of the emperor, but the senators were already seated and making themselves comfortable. They laughed, talked to one another, some of them put their money in a betting pool, carried by a servant boy. 

Drums suddenly erupted, and the audience lowered their screams. There, at the very beginning of the arena, a man in an expensive-looking robe stood on a podium and raised his arms up, commanding the attention of everyone in the arena. 

“Citizens of Rome!” bellowed the man; his booming voice effectively shut down people. “Behold, your emperor!” 

Drums erupted once again, and this time, the emperor himself appeared before his seat, waving and grinning at the audience. As if on cue, people cheered and threw flower petals in the air. Fareeha glared at the man. Anger, contempt, and disgust arose within her, but she tried to calm down. This wasn’t the time for her anger. She needed to focus on the upcoming fight, and angry was the last thing she wanted to be right now. 

“Gladiators!” said the announcer again, “Kneel before your Emperor!”

Fareeha made a disgusted sound before kneeling. As much as she wanted to just stand and look him in the eye, she didn’t want to make a commotion. Worst case scenario, she could be executed for disrespecting Caesar. 

“...May the Gods and his highness save your souls. Gladiators, fight and die, for that is your sins!”

Right after the man’s words, Fareeha heard a faint rumbling. It kept getting louder and louder, and she could feel the ground moving under her feet. And finally, the heavy gates at the end of the arena opened, and came the infamous chariots. They galloped into the arena, circling Fareeha and other gladiators. There were two people on one chariot, one holding the rein, and the other wielding sword and shield. Some chariot riders were equipped with bows and arrows. And just as expected, their opponents started shooting arrows at them. Fareeha raised her shield to block an arrow coming at her. She was used to this, but unfortunately some of her fellow gladiators weren’t. Arrows struck a man right in the chest, killing him instantly. Another struck a woman in her thigh. She cried out in pain and dropped to the ground just for another chariot to come at her and cut her in half with its scythe wheels. One by one, people died by the chariots. Some screamed in panic and swung their swords madly; they were at a loss for what to do. Fareeha needed to do something or they would all die.  _ She _ would die here.

“Together! Together!” Fareeha shouted to the others. “We need to stay close or we’ll all die!” 

Perhaps it was because they were dying, they were desperate for a way to fight back, to survive that they obeyed Fareeha’s order without question. Together, they formed a square with their shields covering their sides and heads.

“Steady, steady,” Fareeha called out as she braced herself for impact as a chariot came galloping at them. “Hold!” she said as their shield collided with the blade on the chariot. It was harsh, the collision, but they made it without casualty. The chariots made a few attempts at breaking their formation by throwing spears and arrows at them, but their shields blocked them all. 

“On my command,” said Fareeha, focusing on one chariot as it approached their formation, trying to use its bladed wheels to break the shield wall again. And as the chariot got close enough, Fareeha yelled, “Now!” 

At once, the gladiators thrust their weapons forward, breaking the wheel. The chariot lost its balance and eventually crashed into the wall. The rider was killed instantly, but the archer was still alive and was getting up. Fareeha wasted no time. She stepped out of the formation, grabbed a spear nearby, and in a blink of an eye threw it at the enemy. The spear pierced the man’s chest, putting him down for good. She quickly got back to her position, and together they performed the same trick on the other chariots, succeeding each time. 

As they took down one by one chariot, there weren’t many of them anymore. Fareeha and her group started breaking off their formation to attack the remaining chariots by throwing spears and shooting arrows at them. Finally, there were only two chariots left to deal with. Fareeha instructed her fellow men to hit one chariot by pushing their shields out, and as the chariot broke, Fareeha snatched a horse for herself along with a spear. Riding the horse by herself, Fareeha chased the other chariot down, and before long, she caught up with it. Its rider threw a spear at her, but she dodged it easily by jerking her body to the side. Another spear, and she dodged it again. Fareeha tightened her hold on the spear and raised it at eye level. And then, like a skilled hunter, she threw it at the riders with deadly precision. The force was so great that the spear traveled with inhuman speed; it struck one of the riders right in the head, leaving the other rider no choice but to take over the rein. Fareeha took that chance to strike as she pushed her horse to go faster, and in one swift swing, she pulled out her sword and slashed her opponent’s throat. He fell backward and off the chariot, ended up dead on the dirty sand. 

The crowd roared in approval; her fellow men cheered, raising their weapons in salutation as Fareeha slowed her horse to a stop. She got off the horse and picked up a sword nearby as her eyes caught the movement from the guards. They were forming a circle, surrounding Fareeha and other gladiators. A guard in red cape stepped forward (Fareeha assumed he was the captain). He took one look at Fareeha and the others before raising his hand, and the guards surrounding them made an opening. 

“The Emperor wants to give you his blessing,” said the Captain, then he turned his attention to Fareeha, “Drop your weapons, and when His Highness arrives, get on your knees.” It wasn’t a request. It was an order. “Tell your men to drop their weapons!” He said again, louder this time when Fareeha and the others didn’t move.

Fareeha looked behind her, regarding her men, nodding her head at them, and they dropped their weapons without protest. The guards suddenly straightened their backs, and the gates under the royal cubicle opened. The emperor himself walked out into the arena, followed closely by his Legion guards. The crowd cheered at his arrival. He grinned and waved eagerly at them, and as he approached Fareeha and the gladiators, the captain shot Fareeha a glare. Fareeha ignored him. She rolled her shoulders before kneeling on one knee. She could feel the others following her move behind her. 

“You can stand,” said Caesar, that stupid grin was still on his face. 

Fareeha stood, towering over the man. She regarded him silently. He was still very young, probably in his early-twenty. He was pale and skinny, and didn’t look like an emperor at all. He was just a weak little boy in Fareeha’s eyes. It was hard for Fareeha to imagine the things this boy had done, the orders he had given. Orders to murder hundreds and thousands of innocent people.

“Gladiator, your performance was spectacular. You impressed Caesar himself!” he laughed. “I want to see the face of the one who commanded these gladiators to victory.”

“Remove your helmet!” the captain shouted at Fareeha. 

Greeting her teeth, Fareeha slowly raised her hands to remove her helmet. She squinted her eyes at the sudden exposure to the harsh sun above. Her hair stuck to her forehead; droplets of sweat rolled down her temples. She fixed the emperor with an icy stare, and if looks could kill, this man would be dead already. 

The emperor backed away a little, perhaps startled by such a stare. He gulfed quietly before regaining his composure. “Are you the one they call The Egyptian?”

“The emperor asked you a question, slave!” growled the captain, irritated when Fareeha deliberately took too long to answer. 

“Yes,” said Fareeha curtly, still fixing her stare on the emperor.

“Well, aren’t you a bit far away from home?” the emperor chuckled, and the guards around them laughed along.

Fareeha knew she had to keep a neutral face, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed to boil with rage inside. Her hands formed into tight fists on her sides; her knuckles turned white from the pressure. Remembering what he had done to her people, Fareeha’s anger rose. She wanted to snap this man’s little neck and toss his lifeless body for dogs to feast on. But she needed to calm down. It wasn’t time just yet. She needed to wait. 

0ooo0

The moment she took her helmet off and revealed her face, Angela’s breath was taken away by the death stare from her striking brown eyes, turning into liquid ember under the sun; the strong line of her jaws; the sweat rolling down her face, tracing glistening olive skin. She stood towering over the emperor, muscles tensing under broad shoulders and long arms. She was everything the maids in the palace had been whispering: strong, terrifying, and very very attractive. And she was indeed a true warrior. The way she swung her sword and threw her spear, it was impressive! 

The whole game, Angela was watching with bated breath, fearing for the lives of everyone. She never liked this type of entertainment: the blood, the gore, the screams and the horror of it all. To her, all lives were precious, and to kill a person just for the sick fun of it, she didn’t want to be a part of. But Angela had no choice but to attend this - the biggest event in Rome, even bigger than the Olympics itself. The people of Rome loved this tradition, and whether Angela thought of it as inhuman or not, the empire didn't care. She needed to gain the favor of the public if she wanted to change Rome, and if showing her pretty face at the arena today meant victory in the long run, then she would endure it. 

“My lady,” said a man, Reinhardt, a close friend of hers.

Angela tore her gaze away from the one they called Egyptian and turned her attention to the man. Reinhardt was a retired general of the royal army. He was a giant, and still could lift a horse with his bare hands even in his seventies. His hair was white from the years of battles and his face bore the scars of war and killing, most notably the one on his left eye. Everyone knew he lost the eye from fighting a bear in the battle against the barbarians from the North. “Senator Reinhardt,” she said, smiling at him.

“Didn’t think you’d be here today,” he said, sitting down next to her.

“Politics, Reinhardt,” said Angela, sipping her wine, turning her gaze back to the arena.

“Spare me, my lady. I’ve lived long enough to play such a boring game,” he laughed.

“I believe Jack has talked to you about it?” Angela continued talking without looking at her friend, however she had lowered her voice at this point.

“Of course, my lady. Everything is ready…”

“Almost ready,” she corrected the man. Reinhardt only nodded.

“So, that’s the one?” Reinhardt asked after a while, regarding the Egyptian. He tried to whisper it, but his booming voice wouldn’t allow it. Angela found that amusing. 

“Yes, so it seems,” said another person. Angela turned to see another senator, Jack Morrison. He bowed to Angela and made himself comfortable beside her as well. “Though she still needs to pass two more tests.”

From the corner of her eyes, Angela could see Reinhardt watching the Egyptian closely. Angela could imagine him assessing her skills. He was a warrior after all. Retired or not.

“She’s very fast and very good with weapons. A fearless warrior, I can see. But that also makes her dangerous,” said Reinhardt, looking at Angela. “I don’t like it, Angela.”

“We talked about this, Wilhelm,” said Jack, annoyed. “We need someone like her…”

“I still stand my ground, Morrison. We don’t need anymore of your brutes!”

“I’m done explaining. It’s Angela’s call,” Jack grumbled, rubbing his temple.

“Angela, you don’t have to do this,” said Reinhardt, looking every bit the father he was to her: concerned, worried, and loving. 

“I do, Reinhardt, and we all know why,” said Angela. She then placed a hand on his shoulder, looking in his good eye. “I’ve made my choice, my loyal friend. I need your support.”

Reinhardt took her hand in his and kissed the rings on her fingers, her royal symbol. “Everything you need, my lady. I’ve sworn to serve the royal bloodline until my very last breath and that shall be the only thing I do,” he said. 

“Thank you,” Angela smiled. She turned to watch the tall warrior again. Now, they only needed to wait. Now, she needed to pray. Pray for the alpha to survive until the end.

0ooo0

She couldn’t sleep. The burden of a promise weighing down on her already tired shoulders; the adrenaline of the battle a few hours earlier still lingered itself in her bloodstream, and the premonition of tomorrow’s match was messing with her brain. Fareeha might have won today’s game, barely survived it, but that didn’t mean she would fare the same tomorrow. So, she gave up sleep, getting up to wash her face. The gladiators were housed in an old barracks a few hundred yards away from the arena. It belonged to the Roman empire, and this place once was a gladiator school. 

Fareeha walked to the common area, where gladiators wash, eat, and train, and looked around. Wooden spikes surrounded the perimeter of the place. Two watchtowers on either side of the barracks with armed guards switching watch every two hour. Inside the barracks, gladiators were kept in houses made out of mud and straw. They slept on the ground, bunched up together, with hay as beds and animals hide as blankets. 

Fareeha walked to the big well in the far corner of the common area and took off her clothes. She started washing, scrubbing off all the sweat of her body. A guard noticed her and started watching as she washed herself. Fareeha didn’t care. Privacy was the last thing a gladiator needed to worry about. She was stripped naked on the first day she was captured and brought to the slavers. They had poked and grabbed her, assessing her body and her strength to see if she was fit to fight. 

Fareeha shook her head and wiped her face off of water with her bare hands. Gladiators didn’t even get to have cloth to wipe their bodies. She looked up and the guard who was watching a few minutes ago had gone. Fareeha paid no mind to that. She decided to just stay naked like this, letting the air dry her body. She sat down on the edge of the well, staring up at the starry skies above. For a moment, Fareeha felt like she was home again. She remembered just lying down on a patch of grass in the garden of her house and watching the night sky. It had always calmed her. Wherever she went - on the battlefield, on the long journey to war, on her own hunting trip - Fareeha always remembered to stop and admire the night sky. It was one of a few things she appreciated in her past life: no matter where she goes, what she does, the sky stays the same. 

Fareeha snapped her head around at the sound of soft footsteps approaching. She didn’t move her body, however. She had detected another pair of eyes watching her while she was washing earlier but decided to keep quiet about it. If this person wanted to kill her, they could have done it by poisoning her food at dinner (If they could get in without alerting the guards, then they could easily sneak inside the kitchen). 

“So, you have finally decided to step into the light instead of watching me wash from afar,” said Fareeha; her back to the mysterious stranger. 

The stranger stopped a few feet away from her. The well was the only thing between them. “Sharp. As expected of the Greatest warrior,” said the stranger. 

Feminine voice. This prompted Fareeha to turn around and face the person. Small figure, dressed in long robes that covered from head to toes. Their face was hidden under a veil, and with the darkness surrounding them saved for the moon light, Fareeha couldn’t really make out their facial features. The only thing she could tell for sure was that this stranger was a woman.

“Who are you?” Fareeha asked.

“Who I am doesn’t matter,” said the woman. 

“What do you want, then?”

“I want to help you. I’m going to let you in on a few details about tomorrow’s game. You’re going to be joined at the wrist with another gladiator, and together you have to fight back your opponents in that same fashion. But the emperor never plays fair, so expect the worst.” 

Fareeha stared hard at the woman. She looked small but there was this aura of authority about her. “Why should I believe you?” said Fareeha, standing up to her full height. She walked around the well to stand in front of the stranger.

The woman didn’t flinch away from Fareeha’s towering figure, but she did turn her head away. “Because it can save your life,” she said. “Believe me or not is up to you. I can’t decide that.” And she started walking away from Fareeha. She was leaving.

“Why help me?” Fareeha said.

“Because you’re important,” said the woman over her shoulder. She then disappeared into the night, the way she came. 

Fareeha didn’t bother chasing even though she still had many questions. She didn’t want to alert the guards. She picked up her clothes and put them on. She went back to her sleeping spot and sat down, back against the wall. She let her mind wander back to the conversation she had with the mysterious woman, and no matter how hard she tried to decipher her words, Fareeha couldn’t understand it. The only thing she could do right now was to hope that the woman wasn’t a menace. She stayed that way till sunrise.

The next day came, and after a big lunch, the gladiators were once again led to the Colosseum for another game. True to the woman’s words, Fareeha’s wrist was chained to another’s. Her partner was a skinny beta man; Fareeha frowned at the way his legs were shaking. There were five pairs of them in total. Some of the gladiators were with Fareeha in the chariots game. They looked at her grimly, knowing exactly what they were about to do. 

As they walked out into the arena, the crowd cheered. Then as they recognized her even under her helmet, they called for her title: the Egyptian. The gladiators around her looked at her, and all of a sudden, they put their fists against their chests. “It will be an honor to die by your hands,” they said. Fareeha had never hesitated to kill someone, but now, surrounded by the men and women whom had worked with her as a team to survive yesterday, Fareeha questioned her own resolve.

“May the best live!” said Otis, the man whom Fareeha fought the first day she was brought to the slavers. He fought along her in the battle with the chariots, too. 

“May the best live,” Fareeha nodded. 

The usual happened after that. The man with the booming voice made a presentation to the crowd, introduced the emperor and his royal entourage. During his speech, Fareeha closed her eyes, zoning out all the sounds and motions around her until everything was only a distant memory to her. The next time she opened her eyes, she heard the angry yells coming from the speech-giver himself.

“Did you not hear what I say? Fight, you brutes!” the man screamed at them.

Fareeha looked around her. The gladiators who had saluted her earlier stood motionless. Their weapons held idle in their hands. They too, looked around them, and then as they realized what was happening, they turned to Fareeha. And then, Otis acted first. He dropped his massive sword to the ground with a clang, regarding Fareeha. “We will not fight each other!” he bellowed out for everyone in the arena to hear.

The crowd was dead silent at his words; even the speech-giver was ironically speechless. Then, the emperor broke the silence at last. “What is this?” He yelled angrily. “Are you rebelling? Guards, kill them! Kill them all!” he barked his order; his face was now red with rage.

Fareeha was in position, ready to fight off the guards. They might not survive this, but if she had to die today, then at least she could die with honor. The sound of footsteps rumbled underneath the ground, signalling the arrival of the royal guards. However, out of the blue, the crowd exploded into screams of protests. The audience booed and screamed at the emperor, upset about his decision. They demanded the gladiators to be spared. They wanted their favorite hero, the Egyptian, to live and fight on. 

At last, the emperor himself had to revoke his order, much to his displeasure. Rome was the people, and even the emperor had to yield to the people’s will. Fareeha was surprised and also glad that they were alive, unscathed. The gladiators were then released of their chains, and as soon as they were free, they came and hugged one another. Fareeha was pulled into the hug as well, and that was the only time she didn’t mind the sweat of another’s on her skin. She laughed with them and wrapped her arms around them all. And here she thought comradeship was dead. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fareeha's life is threatened, and new character!

Angela sat on a reclining chair, leaning her back against the cushions, as she watched the alphas arguing with each other. After the game was canceled due to that little incident with the Egyptian and other gladiators, they were now in the senate Parliament, addressing said issue. It had been almost an hour, and the senators and her emperor cousin were still arguing. 

“I should have killed them all! The nerve of them to stand up against me like that!” said the emperor - her cousin - Lucius.

“That would make the crowd really upset. You see how happy they were at your final decision, sire,” said one senator.

“Killing ten won’t make the people hate me. We can always find more!” Lucius argued. He swung his sword around, cursing. 

“I’m afraid none can replace the Egyptian. The people loved her too much, even more now today, sire,” said Jack calmly, and a few other senators nodded in agreement with him. 

“You’re saying the people of Rome love her more than me?” said Lucius, glaring at Jack.

“I never said that, my lord…”

“But by the devil, you mean it! You’re the one who brought her here after all!” he accused, pointing his sword at Jack’s chest.

Jack appeared unflinching. He stood his ground and clapped his hands behind him. “Perhaps your grace find one mere gladiator a threat to your throne that you feel the need to brand me with such atrocious accusation,” he said to the emperor, and everyone around him gasped out loud.

“You…” Lucius growled, his face was now purple. He was about to swing his sword at Jack, but stopped when someone called out to him.

“Enough, Lucius,” said a man in purple robes. He appeared from behind them and strode to where Lucius and Jack were. Lucius stepped back upon seeing him. He was Angela’s uncle and Lucius’s father, Chancellor Macrinus. “Put that away before you hurt yourself.”

“He insulted me, father!” cried Lucius after sheathing his sword. 

“Indeed. That is no way to talk to your emperor, senator or not, Morrison. You are getting pretty comfortable yourself nowadays, I’d say,” said Macrinus, side-eyeing Jack. 

“Not  _ our  _ emperor. The Praetorian Guard might have pledged their allegiance to your son, but the Senate hasn’t,” Jack growled. His hands were now on his sides, forming tight fists.

“Sometimes you make me laugh,” said Macrinus, smirking, unflinching by the threat. He looked around him, addressing every senator in the room. “I don’t get why you are all being so stubborn? Lucius - my son and beloved nephew of the Great Marcus - is the rightful heir to the throne!” 

Angry murmurs could be heard after what he said, but Macrinus ignored them. “You are just lying to yourself. Lucius is your one true Emperor!” he smiled, nodding to his son. 

“Perhaps I should remind you, Chancellor, that it is Marcus the Great’s daughter, Princess Angela, the rightful ruler of Rome. She is what left of the royal bloodline,” said Jack, prompting everyone to look at her.

Macrinus spared Angela a glance. “She’s just an omega. Omegas are not allowed to rule. You know that,” he said, chuckling. “Since the late Marcus didn’t have any alpha for an heir, my son is next in line.”

“Maybe I can’t rule, but my children can,” said Angela, at last. She stood gracefully from her chair, and the alphas in the room bowed to her, except for Macrinus and his son. “Am I right, gentlemen?” she said, looking around at the senators.

“You are absolutely right, princess,” they all said.

Macrinus looked as though he just ate a bowl of Indian hot pepper. He stared daggers at Angela, but he couldn’t find anything to say back to that. What she just uttered was the law, hand written by Augustus the Great himself. 

“Gentlemen, please. I think that is enough for today. It has been long, and I’m sure everyone is tired and wants to take a hot bath right now. We can continue this discussion some other time, perhaps?” said Angela, addressing the entire room. She was pleased to see people nodding in agreement. One by one, the alphas came to give her hand a kiss before taking their leave. 

“Once again your gracefulness commands our attention. I bid you goodnight, my princess,” said Jack, smiling as he kissed her hand. Then, he bowed low as she walked out of the chamber. 

Angela shrugged off her green scarf and shoes, falling onto her bed with a tinge of arousal she herself was surprised to feel. “Go get some rest, Aleine,” she told her handmaiden and frowned at how breathless she had sounded. 

“Do you need anything else, my lady?” Aleine asked as she gathered the scarf and shoes.

“No, thank you. I will retire now.”

“Good night, princess.” Aleine walked out and closed the thick double door made of bronze. 

Angela stretched like a cat. She got up and walked through the giant pillars to get to the balcony. From her sleeping chamber, she could see the streets of Rome, lit up by torches on the walls of brick houses; there were people on the dirt road even in the night, visiting friends or simply just taking a stroll through the less crowded street, a bottle of ale in hands. Heavy footsteps from below pulled her gaze away, and as she looked down to the courtyard she saw guards walking in groups, spears and shields at the ready. They were changing watch. 

A cool breeze brushed her naked shoulders, caressing her cheeks like a lover’s touch, and Angela’s mind wandered to the thought of a certain gladiator. She recalled their very first encounter at the barracks, where she had disguised herself as a servant to sneak inside. With the help of Jack, it was no trouble at all. She had spied the Egyptian from the shadow as she washed herself at the well. And even though Angela knew it wasn’t very becoming for someone of her status to stare openly at any alphas, she couldn’t help the pull. It had been dark and the only source of light was from the half moon above them, but Angela could still see the strong lines in the alpha’s hips and thighs. Her back was facing her, wet from the water; it rippled with muscles and almost blinded her by the glow the moon had bestowed upon. And when she had opened her mouth to speak, Angela’s knees buckled at the low and commanding timbre. She had let loose a tiny gasp when the alpha approached her; her height and hard body had overwhelmed Angela’s senses, and it was a miracle that she didn’t flinch away at such a dominating presence.

“Not again,” she murmured, crossing her thighs to contain the sudden ache in between. She knew why she was feeling this way. Her heat was about to come, probably in a week or so, and her body would respond to anything remotely sexual. And seeing the gladiator doubled the sensation. She walked back inside and allowed her body to flop ungraciously on her giant bed. She didn’t know why she was so worked up over this alpha. Yes, she was very attractive, and so were many other alphas; she was strong, and Angela was sure she had met stronger people; she was dark and tall, and  _ angry _ , and everything Angela didn’t know she had been craving. 

The chamber suddenly felt tight and stuffy. Angela sat up and shrugged herself off her clothing. Completely nude, she lied down on her back, content by the chills the night air from outside brought in. She drew the white sheets between her legs and pulled it up to her breasts, moaning softly when the soft fabric brushed against her sensity folds. “Maybe just for a little…” Angela whispered as she let one hand wander down the plane of her stomach to reach her precious place. It was already sleek with arousal. She closed her eyes, letting her head fall deeper into the pillows as she imagined tan fingers, long and rough from fighting, caressing her flesh. She pictured wide arms and broad shoulders, wrapping around her small frame. She saw ember eyes now, burning her with a fire so hot and powerful Angela could melt from just one gaze. A predatory stare, wanting nothing but to eat and ravish her. And she saw full lips, curled into a confident grin as they lowered themselves to hers. Angela sobbed at the first contact of a kiss. She knew she was dreaming again because this felt too good to be true, yet she wished vehemently for the fingers touching her to belong to the alpha in her heart. 

Angela was on the verge of orgasm, and she so desperately wanted to call a name, a name she didn’t even know.  _ Oh, her name, her name…  _ It couldn’t wait. She couldn’t hold back. Angela cried out, snapping her head back as she came, fingers rubbing frantically on her wet slit.

“I don’t even know your name, and yet I touch myself thinking about you,” Angela muttered, breathing heavily in her aftershock.

A sharp rap on her door jolted her out of her trance. “What?” Angela couldn’t help her irritation. She was still recovering from an intense orgasm. She got out of bed and put on a silk robe to cover her nakedness. 

“I’m so sorry, princess, but the Senator wanted to talk. He said it’s urgent.”

She frowned as she opened the door for Aleine. It was so unlike him to want to meet at this hour. “Jack? Where?” 

“The usual, princess,” said Aleine, hurriedly helped Angela’s out of her robe and started dressing her in her royal attire. 

Angela followed Aleine through the back alley behind the courtyard as her handmaiden walked ahead with a candle in her hand. They walked briskly in the near darkness, trying to lighten their footsteps to avoid drawing attention. As she stepped inside the secret room her father had built for protection as well as an isolation chamber for his only daughter, Angela pulled back her hood to regard Jack. Aleine stepped outside and closed the door.

“My lady,” said Jack, bowing and kissing her knuckles. “Forgive me for pulling you out of your slumber-” 

“What’s wrong, Jack?” Angela interrupted him.

“Our enemy is moving. My spy recounted what he had gathered in Lucius’s chamber tonight. Macrinus wants to secure his son’s throne by having him ask you for marriage.” 

“What?” Angela exclaimed. She needed to sit down.

“If you become his queen, and...”

“And if I have his children, he will become the rightful Emperor of Rome. Angela finished for Jack. “Can I refuse it?” She tried to be calm about it.

“I’m afraid no, my child. Your 3-year mourning period has passed, and you will have to take a mate on your upcoming heat. You know the law, Angela. Omegas of royalty need to be mated and bear children at the age of sixteen. You’re already nineteen, you can’t delay it any longer.”

“What about our plan? Does it still apply?”

“It does, but Macrinus is smart, he’ll be coming for the Egyptian because he knows she will win,” said Jack grimly.

“They will try to kill her,” Angela muttered. She felt lightheaded at the thought. 

“She’s popular and loved by the people, so he can’t just order to execute her. He will try to assassinate her.”

“We need to do something, Jack. She can’t die.” Angela didn’t know why, but the thought of the alpha oblivious to unseen danger put rocks into her stomach. 

“I know. I won’t let that snake kill our only weapon,” said Jack. He sat down at the only table in the room and started jotting down something on the parchment paper. 

“What are you going to do?” 

“Sending someone to watch over her,” said Jack, rolling the parchment and putting it inside his robe. 

“Who?”

“You know him,” Jack smiled, “Gabriel Reyes.”

Angela did know him. He was her father’s spy, best of them all, and the most loyal. Nobody knew where he went after the death of her father, not even Angela. He was like a shadow, never stayed in one place for too long. Angela wasn't even sure if Reyes was his real name. 

0ooo0

Fareeha watched the man carefully as he helped people getting water from the well. He came to the barracks two days ago, on a slave ship from Spain. Gabe was the name, a farmer who sold himself into slavery because of a bet. Fareeha snorted humorlessly. He could fool people and even the guards, but not her. She could tell the man was lying by only a hand shake. Those were no farmer hands. She had been polite at first, nodding greetings and receiving food from him, but she eventually caught onto something. Wherever she went, he was always in her sight. When she got in line for food, he was always before her, smiling and joking about coincidences. And he was exceptionally attentive to her, oftentimes catching her off guard to make small talk. 

“What troubles you?” said Otis next to her, carving an elephant out of a small block of wood with his rusty dagger. 

“What do you think about Gabe?” 

“The farmer? I don’t know, nothing special. Why?”

Fareeha tore her eyes away from Gabe to glance at Otis. She smiled. After that last game, she and him had formed a somewhat companionship. They would train together, sleep and eat next to each other. He would give her fighting tips, and vice versa. She had learned that he used to be a blacksmith. He had a family once but his wife and daughter died of the plague. He had done business with bad people and ended up being sold to a slaver. “I don’t believe the farmer story,” she said, absentmindedly flicking a grass she had snapped off from the patchy ground.

“And I don’t believe you chopped wood for a living either,” Otis chuckled, carving the trunk. “Hey, we all have a past we don’t want to remember, and besides, does it matter if he lies about his past? Nope!”

“He’s been close to us, you notice?”

“Pfft, probably wanting to hang with the strongest. Smart man.”

“You’re a man of wonder, you know that?” Fareeha laughed, amused by his simplicity.

“I’ve lived to this age. I watched my family die in my arms, Fareeha. Nothing matters to me more than winning, good food and a drink.” He stopped his hands and looked beyond, a pensive look in his pale blue eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

“Agh, forget it! Here.” He gave her the wooden elephant. “Take it.”

“And what will I do with it?”

“For your kid, when you get an omega to push one out for you, of course,” he said, grinning at her.

“And when is that?” Fareeha smiled back, taking the toy. 

“Oh, you’ll get out,” he said, tucking the dagger inside the pouch at his belt. “You’ll get out of here.”

“Make another then, because I don’t intend to stop at one.”

Otis howled in laughter, slapping her on the back. Fareeha laughed along. She hadn’t thought she would actually entertain the thought of having children, but what does she know? When she first came here, she hadn’t thought she’d make friends, and now she had one already, sitting next to her, laughing with her, watching her back for her. 

The afternoon went by fast with the training and labours Fareeha and the others had to do. She put her axe down as the bell finally tolled and made her way to the well to wash herself, getting ready for dinner. To her surprise, Gabe wasn’t standing in front of her like usual. In fact, he was nowhere in sight. She didn’t get to think about it too much as the man behind her nudged her back and asked her to move forward in line. Fareeha got her food and moved away, didn’t pay much attention to the cook who handed her the bowl except he was new. She got under a big oak tree, the only one in the barracks, and sat down. 

“I love stew,” Otis said, sitting down next to her. He didn’t wait for her and started eating from his bowl, humming appreciatively. “Not bad, but my wife’s was still the best.”

“I didn’t see Gabe,” Fareeha said, stirring the stew with her wooden spoon.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you two were in love.”

Fareeha only shook her head. Otis was right, the stew smelled really good and looked mouth-watering. She scooped one spoonful of the orange soup and brought it to her mouth.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t eat that.”

Fareeha halted and looked up. Gabe stood with his back against the tree trunk, looking down at her bowl. How come she didn’t hear him coming? “What?” She stared at him, silently demanding an explanation.

Gabe squatted and pulled out from inside his robe a rat. He took the bowl from Fareeha and placed it on the ground, then he released the rat. The animal smelled around with its little snout, then once it caught the smell of food, it came straight for the bowl. Fareeha watched carefully as the rat ate the stew, and a moment later it stopped eating and started twitching. Fareeha’s eyes widened when the rat rolled onto its back as its legs jerked violently and white foam poured out from its mouth. The rat was dead in under a minute.

“Your food was poisoned,” Gabe said, dumping the content inside the bowl to the sandy ground.

“I can see that,” said Fareeha, still staring at the dead rat. “Maybe you can help me understand why.” She turned to regard Gabe with her signature death stare. 

“See the new cook? I saw him put something in your bowl before filling it up with the stew,” Gabe said nonchalantly. “Didn’t think it could kill.”

“That’s how, not why.”

“I don’t know. Look, you’re still alive, that’s fine right?” Gabe stood, attempting to walk away.

“Stop.” Fareeha grabbed his shoulder, stopping him. “You lied about being a farmer, and don’t think I wouldn’t notice that you’ve been keeping an eye on me. Who are you, really?” She could feel Otis standing up behind her, ready to back her up. 

Gabe regarded her intently for a long moment before sighing. “I am not a farmer, and I am not a slave either. I’m a ghost, that much you should know. There are people, powerful people, who want you dead, and I’m here to prevent that.”

“What people? And why do they want me dead?” 

“I can’t tell you. I shouldn’t be seen conversing with you. They will know that you’re still alive and that you had help. Now I have to be careful.” He stepped back and turned his back on her. “Just know that I’m a friend, and believe it or not Fareeha, you’ll need friends.” Then he walked away casually.

“Are you going to let him walk away like that?” said Otis.

“I am for now, Otis. I don’t think you can get anything from him by force. I’ll watch him,” Fareeha said, turning to her friend. Otis had that uncertain look in his eyes that she knew only came from his honest heart. She smiled and reassured her friend by placing a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. If he was an enemy, he’d have poisoned me himself, or worse, stabbed me in my sleep.”

“What do you make of him?”

“I don’t know yet, but I do believe he had killed before. And he has skills,” said Fareeha, recalling the few moments she caught him catching and feeding the rats in the barracks. It was an old trick, using mice and animals alike to poison the victims, practiced mostly by assassins. “For now, let’s just pretend he’s on our side.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Winning another game but Fareeha is fatally injured, and it depends entirely on Angela to save her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be sex in this chapter, and it's dubious consent. Also, virginity is a social construct, and screw the patriarchy.

Macrinus rubbed his eyes as he tried to read whatever was written in a small piece of parchment paper. He was irritated, and the presence of his son in front of him, pacing back and forth didn’t help either. “Stop pacing and sit down, boy! You’re driving me crazy,” he snapped and glared at Lucius. 

“You said you’d take care of her!” Lucius cried, “Why is she still alive?”

Macrinus didn’t bother answering. He indeed wanted to ask the same question. He had ordered an assasination on the Egyptian by having his spy sneaking in as a cook to poison her, yet it had been days and the alpha was still standing, looking healthy. “She must have been alerted.” Macrinus stood, crumbling the parchment in his hand and throwing it in the firepit nearby. 

“I don’t care what you have to do, father. I want her dead!”

“We both want the same thing, son. Be patient.”

“Patient? Patient! She’s going to ruin everything if you don’t do something quick. I won’t lose Angela to her!”

“You imbecile! All you care about is to claim an omega?”

“You promised her to me!”

“You are not a pup anymore. Act like an Emperor!” Macrinus roared. He grabbed Lucius’s neck and pinned him to the wall. “Do you have any idea what I had to do to put you where you are today?” He hissed, squeezing Lucius’s neck. “Don’t make me regret it.”

“Y-yes, father…” Lucius gasped, trying desperately to breath under his father's bruising hold.

Macrinus let go of his neck. He caressed the boy’s cheek and kissed his forehead. “Go get ready, son. I want you to look every bit an Emperor you are for the banquet tonight. We have guests to impress.”

“Of course, father.” Lucius nodded and scurried out of his father’s bedchamber. 

Macrinus sat down at his desk again, already planning. If the Egyptian cannot be killed by poison, he will have to think of something more lethal. A wicked glint flashed in his dark eyes, and Macrinus smirked. The Egyptian must die, and she would die in the most brutal way.

0ooo0

Fareeha dodged another swing of the great axe her opponent was wielding. She jumped back a few steps, keeping distance with the giant before her, who was twice her size in height and weight. Without hesitation, the man charged again. He whipped his chain at her, trying to catch her, but Fareeha rolled away from it. The crowd gasped and then cheered for her. Fareeha gritted her teeth, scanning the arena quickly, trying desperately to look for something that could work as a weapon. She found none. Whoever designed the game today was determined to watch her die. Fareeha was led to the arena today without a weapon to defend herself. She wasn’t even allowed to have armor. The theme was ‘Man against Beast’, and apparently her opponent was playing the role of the Beast himself, wearing a lion mask, while her, a lone and deprived human, must fight to survive with her bare hands.

Another swing of the axe down her head and she dodged it easily. Lucky for her, the giant of a man was heavy, and his choice of weapon was poor, making him slow and predictable, but with the way it was going right now, with him chasing after her, Fareeha would run out of stamina sooner or later. She had to find a way to attack.

The Beast threw the chain at her again, but this time she caught it. Fareeha let him pull her toward him, and using the momentum of the pull, she launched herself at him and kneed him in the guts before he could swing his axe down on her. The man grunted and staggered back a few steps. Fareeha used that to her advantage. She yanked the chain from his grasp and quickly wrung it around her hands by a few swings, and before the man could regain his balance, she jumped and struck his masked face with her chained fists. Blood spurted out and plastered the silver mask with red stains. Fareeha didn’t stop there. She charged at him with her body, knocking him to the ground. Then, she mounted and threw punch after punch at his face until the mask was deformed. Fareeha was about to finish her enemy, but at that exact moment, the fine hair on her neck stood still, and a shiver ran down her spine. Fareeha’s instinct told her to roll off the man, just in time to dodge an attack of a tiger from out of nowhere. 

The beast roared and growled at her before being yanked back at the neck by two guards, who were controlling it with a massive chain. Fareeha didn’t have time to wonder why there was an animal in the arena as her other enemy had gotten up and was now sauntering toward her with his axe on his shoulder. The man ripped off his mask, revealing an ugly and battered face with blood dripping down his jaw. He roared and charged at Fareeha. He swung his axe from side to side in wide arches; every swing was aiming at Fareeha’s head. It was not as easy to dodge his attack as before anymore as Fareeha now had to watch out for the other animal, who was snapping and snarling, waiting for every chance to maul her. 

Fareeha grunted in pain as she fell to the ground, having to dodge a difficult attack. She didn’t get the chance to get up when the tiger was suddenly on her. It jumped on her and pinned her down with its massive paws while its snout snapped at her neck. Fareeha quickly raised her chained fists to defend herself. The beast gnawed at her forearm, but thanks to the chain around it, Fareeha’s flesh was still intact. 

Fareeha swore as saliva dripped on her face. Letting out a low growl of her own, Fareeha used her free hand to strike at the beast’s head. Her sheer force coupled with the hardness of the chain managed to stun the tiger. It howled in pain as she repeatedly punched its head. The animal let go of her arm and jumped off her at last, but right when it was out of Fareeha’s vision, the huge blade of the great axe was already swinging down on her. Fareeha rolled out of it in the nick of time, but the blade still managed to graze her on the shoulder. Blood oozed from the wound and ran down her arm, dotting the sandy ground in crimson. As if they could smell the blood, the crowd roared in excitement. They had all abandoned their seats and were now standing on their feet, screaming their cheers for the gladiators. 

Fareeha glanced at her wound. The blade didn’t cut anything important, but it was a deep cut nonetheless, and blood was flowing freely down her arm.  _ This is bad _ , she thought. Blood loss would slow her down and blur her vision. She needed to incapacitate one of them quickly if she wanted to survive this fight. The beast still circled around them, controlled by the guards, and the man was staring her down with his dull, gray eyes; his axe stained in her blood. Fareeha spit on the ground. She looked up and knew what she must do, who she must take down first. She gripped the chain tightly, ready to strike.

0ooo0 

Angela suppressed a cry as the Egyptian dodged another attack from the animal. The alpha had managed to not get caught, but the beast’s claws still struck the flesh on her back. Blood seeped through her tunic, painting the dirty blue fabric dark red. Angela bit her tongue to hold back a sob as she watched the pain in the other woman’s face. She wanted to scream for it to stop. She wanted to order the guards to come and help her, to bring her to Angela’s chamber so she could heal her. Angela had to swallow her tears, however. And for the first time in a long time, she hated her own status. She hated being an omega: impotent and oppressed.

But then, the Egyptian was suddenly on the offense. She whipped the chain at the tiger, causing it to howl in pain. It lunged at her, but she rolled away. In the next ten minutes, Angela watched the woman whip her chain at the tiger and keep her distance with the other gladiator. She kept provoking the beast so that it focused only on her, and Angela was dying to know what the hell she was planning. There were many times when the animal almost caught the Egyptian, and everytime Angela’s heart jumped to her throat as she watched the woman dance around with her life on the line. 

And then, in a move that Angela didn’t think was possible, the Egyptian lured the beast to the two guards holding the chain. She rolled away at the last second, and the animal jumped on one of the guards. The other guard swore and came to rescue her partner, who was screaming in pain and terror under the beast. Taking advantage of the situation, the Egyptian charged at the free guard before she could get any closer to help the other. She knocked the guard down easily and took the sword attached to her hip. The crowd screamed, excited to watch their favorite gladiator unsheathed the sword and did her signature blade-spinning. She had taken control of the game at last. 

Now that she had a weapon in her hand, the Egyptian went for the other gladiator. She blocked an attack from him with her blade and threw her fist at his face. He growled in anger, swinging his axe madly at her. Angela watched the woman jump and back-step around the man, dodging but not attacking, and she gasped as she realized a little too late that the Egyptian was still bleeding a lot. Blood had soaked through her entire back, and the cut on her shoulder was still leaking red steadily. If looked closely, one could see she was shaking and panting. 

“She’s assessing the situation. Attacking while weak can be dangerous,” said Reinhardt next to her. Like her, he was watching the match intently. 

Angela wanted to scream for the game to be stopped. This was no fair game, and the Egyptian was on the verge of passing out. She glanced at her cousin and his father sitting not far away from her. They each had a smug smile on their faces, and as Macrinus turned to regard her, his eyes glinted dangerously as he nodded at her as if saying he had won this time. Angela threw him the most hateful glare she could manage before turning her attention back to the Egyptian. She clasped a hand on her chest, praying for her survival. Oddly enough, Angela desperately wanted for her to live through anything; not entirely because she was vital to her plan, but because Angela felt a connection with her. And even though Angela couldn’t comprehend why she was feeling this way, she ignored the logical part of herself. Right now, she only wanted one thing, and that was for the warrior before her to win the match.

What happened next left Angela and everyone speechless. The giant gladiator roared and charged at the woman again, but this time, she didn’t jump away. She ran forward as well, and when the two were expected to collide into one another, the Egyptian jumped high to the side, and with a swift and clean swing of her arm, she lunged her blade into the junction between the man’s neck and shoulder. She landed gently on the ground and stood with her back to the man. The other gladiator staggered forward, dragging his feet a few steps ahead before collapsing to the dirty ground, face down. Blood oozed from the lethal wound, creating a pool of red on the yellow sand. The man was already dead. 

A second of dead silence before the arena broke into screams and applause. Angela’s heart was still beating wildly in her chest at the smooth but deadly move the Egyptian had performed. It was terrifyingly fast, how she finished her enemy, but at the same time was extremely erotic. And how she just stood there, panting; hand gripping the bloody blade. She was the epitome of power and perfection. 

“Just who is this warrior? I’ve never seen anyone kill with such calmness and dexterity!” Reinhardt exclaimed. He also stood and joined people with applause. 

Angela turned to Macrinus and his son and smirked. Lucius’s face was pale with fear and astonishment, while Macrinus’s was turning purple from the anger. He caught Angela’s challenging stare and bared his teeth at her. He sneered and yanked his cloak before turning his back and leaving the arena. Lucius, on the other hand, had to stay until the end.

Guards from either sides of the arena formed a circle around the Egyptian and the tiger. They cautiously approached the beast, trying to cuff it. Because the tiger had already feasted on the unfortunate guard, it didn’t make a ruckus. It lazily lied down and began licking its snout and paws. 

Angela turned her gaze from the tiger to the woman standing not so far away. Her heart lurched as the warrior fell to her knees, bracing herself on her sword. The audience gasped and murmured to one another. Then, Lucius stood and waved his hand once, and the guards came and picked the Egyptian up by her arms, dragging her inside. Angela wanted to run after them, but she needed to wait for the Emperor to leave first. 

0ooo0

Angela ignored the servant boy and jumped off on her own the moment her carriage arrived at the palace. She pulled up her dress and raced after Jack, who was walking a few feet away with Reinhardt next to him. “Jack, how is she?” She asked, grabbing his robe, ignoring her royalty manners. 

“Let’s not talk here, my lady.” Jack bowed and kissed her knuckles. Angela could tell his eyes were darting around as he did so, watching out for any onlookers. 

Angela nodded. She understood why, but that didn’t stop the hopelessness in her chest. She needed to see to the Egyptian herself. “Come to my chamber for wine, Senators,” Angela said out loud, surprised by the calmness in her voice.

“Certainly, Princess,” said both Jack and Reinhardt.

Once they were safe inside her room, Angela didn’t care to remove her cloak as she came at Jack, demanding an answer from him using her intense gaze. 

“It’s bad. She’s lost a lot of blood. She’s being tended to by a healer. That’s all I know from Gabriel,” said Jack, sighing heavily.

“That snake Macrinus!” Reinhardt cried, slamming his fist on the table. “A coward who has no honor!”

Angela’s mind was working fast, surprisingly. She was also very calm despite the thundering of her heart inside her chest. “Bring her to the Isolation Chamber. I’ll see to her,” she said quietly. Her voice was firm, her resolve absolute. She left no room for argument.

“Yes, my lady.” Jack stood and bowed before her. “Please, be careful.” He then walked out of the room with long strides, determined to save the warrior.

“I need to be alone with her, Reinhardt.”

Reinhardt looked as if he was going to protest, but upon seeing the steel in Angela’s eyes, he backed down. “Of course, Princess. I’ll be right outside the door.”

As Angela closed the heavy door of the Isolation Chamber behind her back, the tall figure lying on the bed, unmoving, filled her with dread. Angela took off her cloak and came to stand next to another man, tall and muscular, who was looking down on the unconscious alpha. “How bad, Gabriel?”

“Princess,” Gabriel muttered, inclining his head. “She’s very weak. I’ve already patched up the wounds on her shoulder and back. They won’t get infected, but the problem here is she’s lost so much blood.” He turned to regard her intently; his dark eyes swam with emotions. “I can think of only one way to save her.”

“Give her the Nectar of Venus,” Angela finished his thought.

“Yes. And even then, it’s up to her metabolism to accept it or not.”

“What choice do we have…” Angela sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. She stroked the Egyptian’s damp cheek, hurting inside at her pained and ashen face.

“Are you sure about this, Princess?”

“Yes.”

“Very well. Then, no one shall enter this room until you say so.” He dropped to his knees before her and kissed her knuckles, then he hurried to the door.

“What is her name, Gabriel?”

“They call her Fareeha. Fareeha Amari.”

Angela mumbled the name to herself. She nodded at Gabriel and turned back to watch the warrior before her as the door closed behind her once again.

“Amari...I know that name,” Angela mused absentmindedly, washing her hands with salt water in a bowl nearby. She then applied rose essence to her palm, rubbing the oil carefully between her fingers. She got back to the bed and sat down, pulling out a small bottle inside her robe. Gently, she cradled the alpha’s head in her hand and raised it up. She put the bottle at her lips and slightly tilted it, pouring the content in her mouth. There was no resistance. The alpha was so still that it scared Angela, but she couldn’t lose hope now. She needed to be brave.

Angela stood and silently took off her robe, and when she was completely nude, she climbed in the bed. She pulled the cover down and got under it next to the alpha. “Fareeha…” she called softly, stroking her face. Fareeha smelled of sand, wheat, and a hint of blood. She was fairly clean despite the state she was in, but that didn’t stop her from smelling like a true alpha; she was projecting thick and powerful pheromone without consciousness.

“Fareeha,” Angela murmured again, smoothing her hand down her muscular chest and abdomen.

Fareeha moaned weakly; her skin felt hot against Angela’s. She twitched and jerked her limbs; her breath was getting more and more labored. Angela knew the signs of the drug. She pulled the cover off their naked bodies and glanced at Fareeha’s groin. The sight made her throat dry: Fareeha had already sported an erection, fully hard and veiny. The tan shaft was long, thick, and was pointing at her chiseled stomach; its head was a shade darker than the rest, and was slowly but steadily leaking precum. Angela got up, and without hesitation, closed her fingers around the cock. She gently pumped it, marveling at how warm and smooth it felt in her palm. Fareeha moaned again, still unconscious. Her precum leaked onto Angela’s hand, making it easier to stroke her. Angela’s mouth suddenly watered at the sight. She was dying to get a taste of this powerful and dominant alpha, and just like that, Angela stopped thinking. She dropped her head on Fareeha’s lap and wrapped her mouth around her cock. Fareeha gave a weak jerk of her hips but let Angela continue her exploration. 

Angela’s eyes rolled back in her head as a wave of arousal sent shiver straight to her pussy at the first taste of the alpha. She was automatically wet by sucking Fareeha’s cock. It was terrifying that only a taste could drive her this wild, but Angela didn’t care because she had never felt so excited and turned on. She swirled her tongue around the head, and then bobbed her mouth up and down on the shaft. She had never done anything like this before, but she wasn’t worried. Her inner omega told her what exactly she had to do to please her alpha. It was scary and annoying that Angela felt a strong desire to please Fareeha, but the omega in her somehow wouldn’t want it any other way. Her omega wanted this alpha, and Angela could no longer deny her lust for the warrior. 

She released Fareeha’s cock to watch her face. It had become red, and sweat was forming on her cheeks and forehead. Her breathing became erratic, and her arms and legs jerked rapidly. Angela knew she had to stop playing. As much as she wanted to savor Fareeha’s taste, she needed to revive her. Angela got up and straddled Fareeha’s hips, whimpering as the cock rubbed against her wet folds. She leaned down and kissed Fareeha on the mouth, frowning at the bitterness, and realized with a startle that Fareeha was dying, and she would  _ die  _ if Angela didn’t hurry it up. 

Angela straightened. For the drug to work on a depleted alpha, sex was required. And sex meant literal intercourse. Angela caressed Fareeha’s cheeks, looking longingly at her. This wasn’t how she wanted to lose her virginity, but Fareeha’s life was on the line, and Angela couldn’t just watch her die. Fareeha was the key factor in her plan to win back the throne, and she was also someone Angela wanted to keep. 

“You will forgive me for doing this,” she said to Fareeha before positioning herself on her dick. With a shaky breath, Angela slowly sunk down. She got plenty of wetness, but Fareeha was big, much bigger than average, and for a moment Angela was clueless at how to get her inside. The head caught at her entrance, and Angela could push, but she was afraid of hurting. Of many things she was taught as an omega, none of them showed her how to take control in mating. It was always the alpha’s job to initiate and claim. 

But this was no time to be afraid. Angela needed to do this to save Fareeha. Biting her lip, she pushed down on the cock. Angela ignored the discomfort when the head stretched her entrance and continued to sink down until it popped inside of her. She let out a breath and rubbed her own clit to make herself wetter. Fareeha’s cock went in halfway but was once again caught at the final barrier. Angela whimpered, dropping down to capture Fareeha’s lips. She parted her mouth with her tongue and dove in, tasting her. And with one last push of her hips, Angela sunk down completely, taking Fareeha’s entire length inside. She moaned at the slight sting when Fareeha’s cock pierced her innocence, but the fullness combined with her wetness brought her more pleasure than pain.

Fareeha groaned under her; her cock twitched and swell inside her. Angela gripped Fareeha’s arms, gasping for breath as she felt the cock inside her expanding gradually. The pleasure was undeniable, just being stretched like this. Angela began a rhythm, rising and falling on Fareeha’s cock. The faster she rode Fareeha’s dick, the more wetness pouring out of her pussy. In this position, Fareeha’s cock hit the perfect spot inside of Angela, and unknown pleasure overwhelmed her, running through her body in torrents. Her face burned with embarrassment at the sound of her ass slapping on Fareeha’s hips. Before, Angela dreaded the thought of mating and breeding, but right now, bouncing up and down on top of Fareeha with her cock buried deep within, Angela was surprised to learn that she enjoyed every bit of it. Sex didn’t seem so intimidating anymore. Not with Fareeha. 

Rough hands from underneath shot out and grabbed Angela’s hips. Fareeha’s eyes shot open. She growled low in her throat and bucked her hips, meeting Angela’s rhythm, and before long, she was fucking into Angela. Angela could tell this was the beast inside the alpha by the pool of darkness in her eyes, almost as black as the midnight sky. She should be afraid of the alpha, who was completely lost to her basic instinct, but all she could care about was the immense pleasure from Fareeha’s cock and the utter bliss from being taken roughly. 

Something hard and round pressed against her ass, and Angela panicked as she realized it was Fareeha’s knot, and she was trying to push it into Angela. She couldn’t afford to have Fareeha come inside. Once an alpha knotted an omega, her scent would linger on the omega for days even without the mating bite. Angela couldn’t walk around with an alpha’s claim on her. As an omega of royalty, she was expected to stay pure for her mate. 

“Don’t. You can’t come in me,” Angela whispered, stroking Fareeha’s face. She put her hands over the bruising grips on her hips and gently pried them off. Angela believed she saw Fareeha’s eyes clear for a second; brown irises bored into her own blues. And during those few precious seconds, she saw a question in those warm eyes, as if demanding an explanation for all of this. “Pull out, please…” Angela murmured, squeezing the large hands that were keeping her in place.

Fareeha shut her eyes. She bucked into Angela’s cunt for a few more thrusts before lifting her up and pulling out in the last moment. She grunted as her cock twitched once, and a second later semen shot out from the swollen head. Angela quickly took Fareeha’s shaft and knot in her hands and started kneading, biting her lip in jealousy as more cum spurted out of her cock, landing wastefully on her hard stomach. The last few spurts came out weakly and ended up dripping onto Angela’s hands. Fareeha dropped her head to the pillow and went still again. Her dick began to soften in Angela’s hands, and her breathing had gone back to normal. 

Angela gently released her cock and wiped her hands on the crumbled sheets. She came up to check Fareeha’s temperature and felt light-hearted. Fareeha’s skin felt cool to the touch, and her cheeks had regained their healthy colors. The drug had worked wonders, and Fareeha was well again. Tired eyes opened just a tiny bit to regard her, and Angela welcomed her by looking back. 

“Did I die and go to the Gods?” Fareeha murmured; her voice was slurred.

Angela smiled, peeling Fareeha’s sweaty hair off her forehead. “No, you’re just dreaming. Sleep now, my warrior. You’re safe.”

Fareeha closed her eyes and went back to her slumber. Angela stayed a bit longer to watch her sleep before getting off the bed and started putting on her clothes. When she was decent, she went to the bed and pulled the sheets over Fareeha’s naked body. She leaned down to plant a kiss on her forehead, lingering her lips on tan skin for an extra second to breath in her scent. She would miss it. Then, she straightened and walked to the door, opened it and called for the other alphas. She instructed Gabriel and Jack to wait for a few hours before moving Fareeha back to the barracks. She ordered them not to speak of the deed to anybody, especially to Fareeha. They all bowed low at her feet, swearing their loyalty. As Jack and Gabriel got in the room to tend to the warrior, Angela let Reinhardt escort her back to the palace. He kept his silence the whole way. Angela was glad he did.

After bidding Reinhardt goodnight and dismissing her handmaiden, Angela locked herself in her chamber, curling on her bed. She was still very aroused. Her clit was hard and her nether lips swollen. Angela danced her fingers on her entrance, wincing as the feeling of being stretched just moments ago came back to life. She craved it. She craved Fareeha’s cock in her, filling her completely, fucking her silly. And even though she could rub herself to orgasm like she did so many nights before, she knew she wouldn’t be satisfied, not now that she’d experienced the feeling of having a cock inside.

Angela shrugged off her clothes until she was nude and rolled onto her stomach. She was tired, emotionally and physically. The fear of losing Fareeha earlier had taken a toll on her, and the sex had drained her off her stamina. Angela willed herself to forget about her release. She wanted to sleep, to have her full strength for the next day, because everyday in this palace -  _ prison  _ \- was a battlefield to her, and she loathed it with a passion. Being born an omega of royalty was one curse she could never escape from. And that was why she was determined to change it, and she would stop at nothing to achieve her goal - her freedom.

Angela fell asleep that night, dreamless. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anybody recognize Fareeha's finishing move? No?


End file.
